An Office Party
by Proverbial Pumpkin
Summary: K/Tohma. An office party goes slightly awry. Alcohol, money, and spectators.


**Title:** An Office Party

**Pairing:** Tohma/K

**Rating:** PG

**Disclaimer:** Sure, why not.

**Author's Note:** I'm going to tell you this now: This is a BET/ALCOHOL story. If you're looking for unique and creative plot lines, I'm afraid this isn't it. This is just me filling a void in the Tohma/K genre.

* * *

"I'm telling you, the man has issues. Enough alcohol would finally set him off. We'd finally see firsthand just how much he hates us all."

That was Hiro. He raised a fine point; there certainly were negative feelings which Tohma harbored for some of his employees. But it wasn't all of them, and it was nothing so violent as all that. Tohma was irritated by Shuichi's antics, and amused by Suguru's attempts to overtake the president on the keyboard, but on the whole he didn't _hate_ any of them.

I knew this, because I'd been living with Tohma for almost a month.

"I doubt it," Shuichi said, sucking obnoxiously at a soda. "He'd probably be all mopey and sad. Sad that Yuki is mine. Haha!" Slurrrp.

I tried to hide my grin. These people didn't know the half of it. "Shall we bet on it?" I proposed, leaning my elbows on the table. The upcoming album was forgotten for now, and I knew Sakano would blow a gasket if he walked in on us tallying up bets on our president. "Ten dollars each. Winner takes all."

Shuichi laughed. "I'm in! But Hiro, you'll have to lend me the money. I spent all mine already."

"Fine," Hiro said, shaking his head and pulling out some cash. "I'm down for angry and violent. Shuichi?"

"Depressed. Maybe he'll even cry."

I made note of all of this. "Suguru?"

Suguru turned to me, deadpan. "This is ridiculous. We've got an album to record, and _no lyrics_," he said pointedly, finishing with a glare towards Shuichi. "You're never going to get my cousin drunk anyway. I grew up in his family, and I can tell you that right now."

"Nonsense. We'll just arrange some sort of office party, and slip something strong into whatever he's drinking," I said jovially, waving a hand at him. "Besides, if it doesn't work then all bets are off. What do you say?"

Suguru sighed. "I still say nothing. You won't get him drunk."

I wrote it down. Suguru- _no change._ "I think you're putting our esteemed president on a bit of a pedestal there, kid," I said. "He's only human, after all."

"Don't let Seguchi-san hear you say that," Hiro said. "What about you, K-san?"

I thought for a moment. I felt almost guilty, like my secret budding relationship with Tohma gave me an upper hand they didn't know about. I'd been living in his house, for God's sake. But on the other hand, maybe not. Nothing I'd seen in Tohma over the past few weeks gave me any clue as to what sort of drunk he'd be. "Just sloppy, I'd say. You know, happy drunk," I said. "As long as he loses some of those prick manners, I'll call the night a success."

They agreed. "But these are all kind of extreme," I continued. "Happy and sad and pissed. You know what that means, don't you?"

Hiro grinned. "It means we've got to get him absolutely _wasted_, just to be sure."

"Yeah! Plastered!" Shuichi shouted, pumping a fist in the air. Suguru rolled his eyes.

"Well, yeah," I said. "But if that's going to be the case, I think one of us should probably watch out for him."

Three pairs of eyes blinked back at me.

"You mean, not drink?"

"What's the point?"

"Yeah, fuck that. Sakano can be the DD."

I sighed. Damn my private soft spot. A year ago, nothing would have thrilled me more than to see Tohma publicly humiliate himself. But things do change. I'd keep an eye on him myself.

* * *

"An office party?"

"Yep," I said, lounging on the couch in Tohma's office. "We thought it would help… morale."

Tohma looked surprised. "What's wrong with my company's morale?"

"I… well… What's _wrong_?" I said, casting about for an answer. "What's _not_ wrong?! People need to relax once in a while, Tohma. This is a stressful place to work, you know, and you practically drive your employees into the grou-"

I was cut off by the sound of Shuichi and Ryuichi barreling down the hallway, Ryuichi shouting something about Kumagaroo and Shuichi all but cart-wheeling after him. Tohma raised his eyebrows at me.

"Alright, alright," I said, hefting myself up and walking over to him. "The party was Ryuichi's idea, okay? He asked me to talk to you about it."

Tohma cocked his head to one side, as if he were considering it. I decided not to express my irritation that when I suggested an idea it was deemed irrational, but as soon as Ryuichi, the senseless wonder, was mentioned it became a legitimate possibility.

"I suppose it might be alright…"

* * *

Some office parties are pathetic. Sometimes, you get there and there's an awkward crowd around the food and the music is terrible but someone in the middle of the totem pole is still trying to get people to dance. NG was a cut above most companies in every respect, however, and our social gatherings couldn't be any different. Especially because Tohma had left me in charge of everything, with the one stipulation that absolutely no music was to be played that was in any way affiliated with NG. I agreed; I knew he was sick of hearing Nittle Grasper and Bad Luck at every turn. Anyway, between the presence of Shuichi and Ryuichi, the sheer number of employees at NG, and the fact that the underhanded focus of the entire party was alcohol, there wasn't really any threat of a dull night.

I drove both Tohma and myself there, so I'd have an excuse to drive him back. Normally he didn't allow that sort of thing; it was risky for us to show up at work or anywhere else together too often, lest our living arrangements be exposed. Tohma wasn't thrilled to be there at all, but as the president he knew as soon as he gave the okay, he was also pledging his own attendance. I felt a little guilty as I held the door for him and almost immediately Ryuichi swooped in on him, grinning ear to ear and offering 'Tohma-chan' a drink. I suspected he'd been employed as an accomplice by Shuichi, and couldn't help a sense of uneasiness when I saw how second-naturedly Tohma accepted it from his long-time friend. Using Ryuichi was almost unfair. Like it was against the rules, and Tohma didn't even know we were playing.

"K-san, does this taste odd to you?" Tohma was asking, passing the drink off to me.

Great. One sip and he was already onto us. I took it from him and sniffed it, then tasted it. He was right; it was slightly off. Probably just had a shot of something Hiro had brought himself. I hoped. I shrugged and handed it back to Tohma. "Tastes alright to me."

"Oh."

I snuck a glance across the room where Bad Luck was indiscreetly huddled together. Even Suguru looked triumphant when Tohma shrugged and took another drink of whatever Ryuichi had given him, and it occurred to me that perhaps I should have dictated what sort of concoction Tohma was given. But it was too late now.

Tohma had informed me that if this party wasn't a complete success in every way, I would pay with my job. I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not, so as I mingled about I kept an eye on things to make sure they were going well. For the most part, though, my attention was on Tohma, especially after Ryuichi showed up with a second drink.

"No thank you," Tohma said politely. "I don't think-"

"Tohma is cruel!" Ryuichi shouted, startling us both and shoving the drink towards Tohma's chest. "This is Ryu-chan's _favorite drink ever_ and you won't even try it?" He honest to God started tearing up right then and there, and Tohma hastily took the glass from his hands, apologizing and looking to me for help. But Ryuichi instantly calmed down when Tohma took a swallow of whatever it was, and the singer traipsed back over to Shuichi against the adjacent wall. Tohma shrugged at me and made a show of taking another drink (although cringing at the taste) when he saw Ryuichi pointedly surveying him, even from thirty feet away.

A few minutes later, Tohma was drinking the stuff casually, whether he was under his friend's surveillance or not. _So it begins_, I thought, and excused myself for a moment.

I found Bad Luck. "What the hell was _that_ one?" I demanded.

"Not sure," Hiro answered.

"Something Hiro's brother's college friends gave us," Shuichi added. "Tastes good, though!" he said, heisting a glass into the air. Shuichi had had one, and some rum, and he was tipsy. Hiro was on his third of whatever he was drinking and holding up well, but partially because he had a wall to lean on.

I looked incredulously at them. "You don't know what it _is_? And you gave it to Tohma? What makes you think it's not laced with something worse than alcohol?"

Suguru eyed me closely. "Why are you so worried all of the sudden?"

"Yeah," Hiro said lazily. "This was your idea. Your party."

Too true. This had seemed like a much brighter notion before I recalled how possessive I'd gotten over Tohma during the past months. It didn't matter that he was only two years younger than I- if anything happened to him, I'd never forgive myself. But the money had been bet. I ignored whatever Shuichi said next and hurried back to Tohma, willing to let the game finish but determined not to leave Tohma's side in case he'd been poisoned or something.

As I soon found out, this wasn't the case.

I'd seen Tohma drink all night with business associates just to seal a deal, and he'd exhibited a respectable tolerance with scotch and the like. But we couldn't even pin a name on whatever he had in his hand now, and whatever tolerance Tohma had was being tested to say the least. When I got back to him, Tohma took another drink and looked around.

"Do you think Ryuichi could get me another one of these?"

The words had barely left his lips before Shuichi appeared, drink in hand. "Here you go, Mr. President!" he said, drunk himself, in a voice probably more chipper than any that had ever addressed Tohma before. And Tohma smiled back at him. Dear God. The day Tohma smiles at Shuichi outside of professional courtesy or passive aggression is definitely an alcohol-induced day.

And God help us, Ryuichi gave him two more drinks in the next half hour. Tohma had had five of whatever the fuck it was. I was astounded by the steadiness of Tohma's movements and speech. He introduced me to some associates and motioned for a drink to be brought to me as if it were the middle of the business day. It seemed like he was for the most part alright. Smiling more than usual and less calculating, but alright. So I risked a trip to the bathroom, and to see how Bad Luck was holding up. It wasn't until I got back that I realized: Tohma was drunk.

He was smiling at me when I got back to him. I groaned inwardly. Tohma had three smiles, and I could recognize them a mile off. There was his neutral, polite grin meant for business partners and competitors alike. There was his cruel smile, reserved for those whose existence have inconvenienced him to the point of destroying lives. And his last, the real smile that only I saw in private, at home.

Well, now I'd seen another. A cloudy, complacent-eyed smile that was accompanied by Tohma's arm slipping around my waist. I discreetly pushed it off. In the ten minutes I'd slunk off to confer with Bad Luck, Tohma's drink had started taking real effect. It appeared Hiro's brother's friends had access to alcohol as sneak-attack as any I'd come across in all my life in America, even the time I spent in California.

When Tohma spoke, his tone was as steady as ever. It was the words themselves that had Bad Luck casually creeping closer to listen. "I missed you," he said, his light voice just loud enough for some nameless employee to turn around to see if it had really been Tohma speaking.

I laughed nervously and swatted Tohma's hand away from mine again. "Just in the men's room," I said.

"You could have told me you were leaving." His voice wasn't even bordering on masculine now, airy and one-hundred percent under the influence. It was distracting.

"I figured you could take care of yourself for a few minutes," I muttered. "Give me that," I said, taking his drink from his hand. Hiro coughed loudly across the room. I ignored him. Six unknown drinks in one party crossed the threshold from deceitful into unsafe.

"Your hands are warm," he speculated, watching as I set his drink down. "I wasn't done with that."

"Give it a few minutes," I said. "Let's sit down."

I guided him to a seat, but it wasn't like he wasn't in control over his body. If you saw him from across the room, you'd never know he'd just put all of Bad Luck to shame in alcohol consumption. But when I sat beside him at a low table and he turned to look me square on, I could tell.

Tohma would never look at me like that in public if he hadn't just consumed copious amounts of something hard. I had to work hard to get that expression in the privacy of our own bedroom. "Tohma?"

"Yes, K?"

"Oh fuck, Tohma. Not here."

He just smiled at me. Jesus Christ, and Bad Luck was ten meters away nearly dislocating their necks trying to see what was going on. "Not here, Tohma."

A blonde woman by the drinks did a double-take when Tohma reached his hand behind my head and started to run his fingers through my hair. Even as I yanked his hand down and held onto his wrist, I saw her tap her friend on her shoulder, then whisper something in her ear. I felt the color rising to my face, and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation revealed itself fully to me. A bet, a whole case of unidentified alcohol, and now Seguchi Tohma was slipping his arm around the waist of Bad Luck's manager.

"Listen, Tohma-"

I was cut off completely. Cut off by Tohma's warm lips planting on mine. They didn't even taste like bad alcohol; they tasted like Tohma. After a second of shock, and another second of the feeling you always get when the person you love kisses you, I pushed him back. And I may have imagined it, but either in reality or my head, the room got a bit quiet. He made a small sound of surprise when I shoved him back onto his seat, and I glanced around furtively, checking to see how many people had seen.

They all had.

Hiro's mouth was hanging open. I hadn't noticed Sakano before, but he was here now, and looking like he was having an asthma attack. Blonde-haired woman was… holding her camera? What the fuck.

Tohma didn't notice the disastrous silence around us. He looked legitimately hurt, and I tried to speak lowly enough that only his ears would hear. "Tohma, you're drunk."

"What, K-san? I can't hear you." Instead of waiting for me to speak up, though, he smiled again, a nearly predatory smirk that reached his too-bright, influenced eyes. Even drunk, Tohma knew that as far as I was concerned, pretty much every move he made oozed sexuality. My jaw nearly unhinged as he reached forwards towards my lap, his palm resting on my crotch. His breathing was audible now.

I flinched, visibly I'm sure, and reminded myself that Tohma getting turned on in the middle of a crowded room was not hot; it was a catastrophe. I hastily removed his hand, becuase if he felt anything move there and decided to take advantage of it, he might start something I'd want to finish.

My eyes cut back to the employees. "I said, you're drunk."

"Oh." His voice was just a bit louder than mine. "I guess we should do this at home, then."

The room erupted into chatter. Gossiping chatter, and I slapped my palm against my forehead. Tohma was going to kill me. He was going to kill us all.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, heh heh. There you go. Just fun. Review if you're so inclined. :-)


End file.
